A Second Chance
by Tigress M
Summary: Alistair Prompt fill for "First Meeting".


Fighting the wind and rain, he makes his way towards the light coming through the windows of what he hopes is an Inn. As he approaches, the sign banging against the eave of the roof tells him it is, thank the Maker. Gathering his cloak about him, he opens the door and steps inside.

The room is warm, with a blazing fire in the hearth at the back. A few guests are scattered around the six tables occupying the common area, in ones or twos, clearly other travelers caught by the raging storm. A few look up at his entrance, but quickly lose interest in yet another rain drenched soul seeking refuge from the rain. The aroma of food, lamb stew and fresh bread by the smell of it, waifs out from what must be the kitchen. He lowers the hood of his cloak, conscious of the puddle of water forming at his feet in this otherwise pristine room.

A crash rings out and all eyes turn towards the sound.

"Alistair?" a voice from his dreams calls out. "Is that really you?"

He stares at the dark haired elven beauty standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the common room, unable to believe his eyes. "Bera?"

She kneels to pick up the broken pitcher she'd dropped and without another thought, he joins her, gathering up the fragments of pottery.

"Thank you," she says, standing up cautiously, her apron full of the broken pieces. She turns and walks back into the kitchen.

Alistair follows. His head spinning. His feet seeming to have a mind of their own.

"What are you doing here?" he blurts out, as unable to control his tongue as his feet.

Bera shrugs. "Earning a living."

"But why here?"

"It's… complicated," she said, untying her apron after having disposed of the broken pitcher.

He couldn't help but laugh. Despite all the pain of the past, she could still make him laugh. It was as if nothing had changed.

No, that wasn't true. Everything had changed. He'd been a fool to not trust her. A fool to think she'd do something so drastic without a good reason. In his blind rage he'd walked out on her, on the best thing that had ever happened to him. He'd lost her, to Zevran of all people, if the rumors were true.

"When is it not, complicated?"

"True," she said, smiling. The smile that could brighten a room. "Let me see to these guests and then we'll talk, if you'd like."

"I'd like that very much," he said. "But, before you go, let me just say one thing. I'm sorry."

The smile stayed on her face but he could see the pain in her eyes. She nodded, wordlessly, and headed back into the common room.

* * *

"You knew, didn't you?" he asked. The last of the guests had retired leaving Bera and Alistair alone sitting near the warmth of the fire, enjoying a cup of hot tea as they chatted.

"I suspected. There had to be a reason Grey Wardens were necessary and I didn't think it could be simply to find the Archdemon. It's not as if it could hide once it surfaced, you know?"

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

She sighed. "Because I didn't want you to worry about it. You do that, you know. Worry. Incessantly. And then, when Loghain surrendered, I saw a chance for hope. If I was right, he'd bolster our numbers, giving you and I a better chance to survive. But there, during the Landsmeet, I couldn't just blurt out what, if true, was obviously a deep Grey Warden secret."

He reached out and placed his hand atop hers, tentatively, as if terrified she would pull away. "I'm sorry."

She didn't. Instead she squeezed his hand in return. "Stop. That's the third time you've apologized. There's no need. We both made mistakes. I should have shared my suspicions with you instead of relying on you to blindly follow my lead. We can't undo the past."

"You're right. I'm so—" he stopped himself, frantically searching for a different subject. "So, um… I'd heard rumors about you and –"

"Zevran," she said, another sad smile crossing her face. "He was good to me, Alistair. He was there when I most needed him."

Her words stung. Zevran had been there to give her what he couldn't. But, something in the way she said it… "Was?" he asked, cringing at the hope he heard in his own voice.

"It's comp—"

"Complicated," he finished for her. "I have all night. Tell me."

She hesitated. Finally, nodding, as if answering a question, she rose from the table. "Come with me."

He followed her up the stairs, curious. She lead him down the hall to a door, opening it slowly, a finger pressed to her lips as the entered, admonishing him to be quiet.

From the light shining through the doorway, he saw a small sleeping form on the narrow bed under the window. A mass of dark hair poked up from underneath the covers. He stood motionless as Bera sat on the edge of the bed, cooing softly to boy. The child stirred, but did not awake. As she leaned down to give him a kiss, brushing his hair out of his face, Alistair noticed the boy's rounded ears.

Another finger to lips as she ushered him out of the room, closing the door behind them. Silently, she led Alistair back down the stairs. Once again in the common room, he turned to face her.

"Is that –"

"Yes. He's yours. Ours."

He sank into a chair, his knees giving way. "How?"

Bera laughed. "Well if I have to tell you…"

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" he said, blushing through his shock. Then his face turned serious. "Did you know this, too, back at the Landsmeet?"

She shook her head. "No, I didn't realize I was pregnant until after the Archdemon was slain. I think it must have happened during our sojourn at the Gnawed Noble Tavern."

He blushed again, remembering that night of passion. The first time they'd actually had a bed to play in.

"His name is Alilan," she said. "After his father."

"And this – he – is why you're here and not in Ferelden?"

"Yes," she said, sitting down beside him. "I was afraid of what Anora would do if she found out. So, I left as soon as I knew I was pregnant."

He hesitated to ask this next question, but he had to know. "And Zevran?"

"He went back to Antiva. He did it for Ali, to protect him. He'd started hearing rumors about a group of Taliesin's friends searching for him, to settle the score and he didn't want to risk Ali's life. So, he left. I haven't seen him since Ali was a baby," she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Alistair reached out and took her hand in his. Bera looked up at him with a questioning gaze.

"What about you?" she asked, sounding as hesitant as he had been moments earlier.

It was his turn to laugh. "I left Starkhaven, determined to turn over a new leaf."

"New leaf?"

"It's comp—"

"Mama?" Alilan asked, coming down the stairs.

"In here, Da'len," she called, softly.

Alilan padded over to his mother, crawling into her lap. He stared at Alistair, unblinking, as only a child can stare. "Who's he?" he asked, pointing at Alistair.

Bera looked at Alistair. He smiled slowly and nodded.

"This is your father, Alilan."


End file.
